


My Heart is Set on You

by formosus_iniquis



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greasers, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5332835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formosus_iniquis/pseuds/formosus_iniquis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achievement City was a strange, little burg. A city that took the best of what the outside world had to offer while hanging onto an aesthetic from decades past. Where cell phones were tucked into the waistbands of poodle skirts and laptops slept soundly next to record players where Elvis crooned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart is Set on You

Achievement City was a strange, little burg. A city that took the best of what the outside world had to offer while hanging onto an aesthetic from decades past. Where cell phones were tucked into the waistbands of poodle skirts and laptops slept soundly next to record players where Elvis crooned. A place where you could swear the fifties never left, if it weren't for the technology and lack of institutional racism.

The teens of the city easily and happily accepted their role, having never known anything but the strange amalgamation of vintage aesthetics and modern ideals; and though their screens allowed them a portal to what it was really like in the outside world, they liked the quaintness of their town and enjoyed the part they got to play in it.

The teens of Achievement City usually grouped themselves into stark categories: the socs or the greasers. They believed in this strict separation and it was rare to see them interact with anyone outside of their group. They had yet to learn how to be themselves so it wasn’t strange that they hadn’t figured out that things were not as black and white as they tried to make them.

Michael and Gavin both found themselves members of the former. Whether it was because of the part of town they lived in or them conforming to the way they felt they were supposed to look, they would never be able to really say why it was they were who they were.

Michael had never really bothered himself with trying to figure out why he was a soc. When his teenage years had hit, and he'd started to see some of his classmates fighting their own rebellions against their parents with their leather jackets and greased back hair, he found he didn't have it in him to join. For all the fun he thought it'd be to try and rankle his parents by joining the greasers he liked the fit of his school letterman a little too much to ditch it for the leather, his curls never would grease back into that pompadour anyway not without using a whole tin of grease.

He didn't know why Gavin kept the look. He had a theory that it was just Gavin doing people expected him to, with that British accent he couldn't shake despite living in Achievement City for most of his life. It suited him, whatever reason he chose it, Michael was certainly guilty of letting an eye wander over his boi as they sat at the soda bar every Friday. The cardigans he'd wear just a shade too tight, that clung to lean, muscled arms, and slacks that sat on trim hips, his messy hair the only thing that kept him from being the poster boy for everything a soc should look like. Michael had often wondered what Gav’s parents thought about that, since Geoff and Griffon both looked like a couple of teenagers who hadn't shaken their greaser phase, their arms full of ink and their leather jackets on near constantly.

Especially when he added that rebellions tended to be more like this, skipping the football game on a Friday night so they could have the soda bar almost entirely to themselves. Gavin was sipping from the float in front of him while they waited on Michael’s ham and cheese, “Michael, you have to have a taste, before it melts.”

Michael was already having trouble figuring out if this was a date. His relationship with Gavin was strange enough as it was, the two had made fast friends when they were kids and now in their teens they were in a place where Michael wasn’t sure how to respond to the rumors they were going steady. Especially when they went out on Fridays like this, with Gavin insisting on covering the price of his meal, and then leading his straw into Michael’s mouth when he wanted Michael to taste his ice cream soda; totally something that friends did.

His food had just been slid across the counter to them, Gavin snatching a fry from his plate before Michael had even stopped it’s moving, when they showed up.

“Well hey there, baby doll.” Michael didn’t know whether to grin or groan at the arrival of the two greasers who’d been hanging around just about everywhere that Michael and Gavin had gone over the past few months. Lindsay, with her red hair in a slicked back pompadour and high ponytail, leaning against the counter beside Michael her smile smug because she knew how the nickname made him flush.

Meg was mirroring Lindsay's stance on Gavin’s left, “Hi ya, sugar,” flipping her long, red curls over her shoulder as she grinned at the two of them.

They were a matching pair, the Cherry Bomb girls. Their black leather jackets, dark jeans, and the bright red hair that had earned them their nickname. They stuck to themselves, riding around town in their flip-top, not really bothering with the other greasers and until a few months ago not really bothering with the socs either. Where one went the other was usually close beside; and at some point they had decided that where they wanted to go was wherever Michael and Gavin were going.

Much like with Michael and Gavin’s close relationship, it wasn’t uncommon to hear rumors about Meg and Lindsay’s relationship being more than just friendly. Michael was inclined to believe the rumors too. Which was why he was convinced they was just feeding them a line every time one of the Cherry Bomb girls got chatty with the two of them.

“What do you two want?” Michael asked, a little peeved that they’d interrupted his time alone with Gavin, even if it wasn’t a date.

“Don’t kick up a fuss, baby, we just stopped in to see our two favorite socs,” Lindsay said, a teasing finger running down the arm of his letterman distracting him as she stole half his sandwich.

Michael could see Meg doing the same to Gavin, a soft smile on her face as she traced teasing patterns into the arm of his cardigan, Gavin wearing the goofy grin that he usually saved just for Michael.

He really wished he could find it in himself to blame Gavin, to get mad or jealous about the attention that was getting stolen away from him, but he had found himself blushing because of a smirk from Meg or Lindsay too many times to get upset. If he knew where he stood with Gavin, maybe, if he knew if they were just friends or if Gavin could see them going steady, it would make things easier; he could get over his crush and maybe see how serious either of the girls were about their offers about taking him for a spin in their hot rod.

“Favorite,” Gavin said, “ how come I saw you palling around with Haywood last week?”

“You worried, honey,” Meg asked, “a jock like Haywood isn’t gonna steal us from you.”

Michael was thinking he’d missed a step in the relationship development with the greaser girls, where it made sense for Gavin to tease along with them like that. Even if the thought of them spending time with the school’s football star left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Ryan might be a friend of his, but Michael had seen too many guys get rejected by girls who held a candle for the school quarterback not to get a little worried when he heard that - forget the fact that the man was stuck on the school’s yearbook editor. It was the same slightly sick feeling he got when Gavin would gush about Ryan when they went to the school games, it was the same reason Michael started convincing Gavin to skip the games with him. Not quite jealousy, but the fear that he wouldn’t match up to someone like Ryan.

“Michael still looks a little worried,” Meg said, “whatcha think we can do to fix that.”

“Dunno, doll,” Lindsay answered, “maybe if we took our boys out for a little backseat bingo.”

“Gavin, I need to talk to you,” Michael said, leaping up from his seat at the bar so quickly it made Lindsay take a step back. Gavin looked confused, leaning back and away from Michael and into Meg’s shoulder, but he let Michael grab his hand and drag him away from the bar and into one of the abandoned booths far from the earshot of the other two.

Gavin seemed worried as he watched Michael slide into the seat across from him, watching with wide, nervous eyes, quiet for once as he waited for Michael to say whatever was on his mind. Which was a problem, since Michael didn’t know what was on his mind, just that he was all balled up over something.

“Are you clowning with me?” he asked, thinking that was the closest to the feeling in his head.

Gavin's eyes widened impossibly larger, from nerves to shock, and Michael could see it all in the set of his mouth, the only place he could let his eyes fall for fear of what he would have seen in those wide eyes.

“No, Michael, course not. What's rattlin’ your cage, boi?”

“Nothing,” Michael said, sounding bitter and annoyed even in his own ears, “I'm not feeling well, Gav, but if you wanna hit makeout peak with Meg or Lindsay have fun.”

Michael got up, feeling the storm of emotions brewing inside that had him trying to storm out of the building before it broke around him. Gavin’s hand wrapped around his wrist, grip loose but unbreaking, tugging Michael so he was standing beside his seat.

Gavin was staring down at the table, fingers still clasped around Michael’s hand but not looking up at him, he gave another tug and, when Michael sat down beside him, he let his hand drop. He was nervous again, Michael could tell, he knew what that looked like and it was Gavin tapping and twisting his fingers on a formica table while refusing to look over at Michael. “I know that we haven’t been seeing each other like this for long,” he said, soft and sounding more vulnerable than Michael had ever heard him. “I think you’re the most, Michael, and if you think it’s selfish or just a poor idea to try something with them, I won’t, cause I don’ wanna mess this up; but I think it could be top.”

Michael had to sit and think about this, the silence between them was thick, and he knew it wasn’t helping Gavin’s nerves. If Gavin was suggesting what Michael thought he was, though, he needed a second to run it through his mind.

The biggest thing being that he was saying that, as far as Gavin was concerned, they were already dating, alright maybe not the biggest, but it was the one had Michael fighting a small smile. The idea of dating Gavin and maybe pursuing something with the greasers, wasn’t something he’d ever even thought of. It wasn’t a bad thought. He couldn’t say he was against trying. It wasn’t like they hadn’t crashed enough of what he was now realizing were Gavin’s pretty valiant attempts at dates, and those had been pretty fun.

He couldn’t say he didn’t get a kick out of talking with the two of them about what games they had on systems that were hidden away in their den, what tech they used and tv they watched when there wasn’t anything else to do in town. They had plenty in common with them, that much had been made clear.

Michael looked over his shoulder. Looked over at where Meg and Lindsay were clustered together, whispering as their eyes would look over to where Michael and Gavin were sitting and then back at the other. They seemed to be just as twisted up as Gavin was. Michael was willing to admit that he was the one who had apparently missed a couple of cues.

“I think it’s worth a try, for sure,” Michael said.

Gavin looked up for the first time since he’d spoken, eyes alight and smiling so wide it probably hurt. “Really, Michael, that’s not just static.”

“Wouldn’t’ve said it if I wasn’t sure, Gavin,” Michael said, trying to sound stern, but he never could manage that with his boi.

Gavin was practically bouncing, cupping Michael’s face and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips like it was the only way he could find to express his feelings. Michael knew he was smiling as Gavin shoved him out of the booth, couldn’t stop as he tangled their fingers together and pulled Michael along behind him back to the girls at the counter. He thought they were both trying their hardest to look like they weren’t worried, but Michael could feel their eyes locked on to where their hands were joined.

“So what’s the story, morning glory?” Meg said.

“Yeah, baby doll, you two comin’ with us? Just a cruise around the block, promise nothin’ untoward.” Lindsay asked.

Michael shared a look with Gavin, a quick squeeze of their linked hands, “Pop the clutch, let’s go for a ride.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always you can follow me on tumblr, [formosusiniquis](http://formosusiniquis.tumblr.com/), I post all my stuff there and some things that don't make it over here. Sometimes I talk about fandom things and take prompts from people.


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